


mail order husband

by rainbowshoes



Series: WinterIron Bingo 2019 [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Bar fights, Crack Treated Seriously, Explicit Sexual Content, Less than canon-typical violence, Little bit of angst, M/M, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vanko Lives, he speaks no english, protective vanko, the bucky as yasha trope, vanko plays matchmaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22092073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowshoes/pseuds/rainbowshoes
Summary: “It's no good, man your age, alone,” Vanko says as he settles more comfortably in his chair. Tony has to admit the whole…’just got out of prison’ look Vanko willingly sports most of the time had thrown him for a loop at first, but he's mostly adjusted to it. “You need wife, someone to take care of you.”Tony raises an eyebrow at Vanko. “I don't...want a wife,” he says, puzzling over this new topic. Why should Vanko care?“I find you good husband,” Vanko says, looking up at Tony for a moment. “Good, strong man to take care of you. Yes?” Tony's shaking his head, but he still can't quite speak yet. He's still choking on the vodka he swallowed wrong. “To say thank you, Tony.”for the winteriron bingo 2019:N3: Vanko Lives (free space) (ch.1)O3: amnesia (ch.2)I5: arranged marriage (ch.6)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: WinterIron Bingo 2019 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1311212
Comments: 106
Kudos: 1064





	1. prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N3: free space - vanko lives!

Tony sits back on the new leather couch Vanko chose to decorate his little house with, a glass of vodka in his hand. Vanko settles in one of the wide, matching leather armchairs across from him. It's been good, the last few months. They cleared up a few things with the Russian officials - bribes, but eh, Tony's used to that - and Vanko had settled in nicely at his new position as lead R&D designer at the Moscow branch of SI. It hadn't been so much of a shock, really, that Howard had stolen the designs for the arc reactor from Vanko's father, but Tony had at least made things right between them. Working with Vanko against Hammer had been all sorts of fun, anyway. 

“It's no good, man your age, alone,” Vanko says as he settles more comfortably in his chair. Tony has to admit the whole…’just got out of prison’ look Vanko willingly sports most of the time had thrown him for a loop at first, but he's mostly adjusted to it. “You need wife, someone to take care of you.”

Tony raises an eyebrow at Vanko. “I don't...want a wife,” he says, puzzling over this new topic. Why should Vanko care?

“Why not?” Vanko sips at his drink and studies Tony for a moment. “Miss Potts is very beautiful woman. You marry her, maybe you have beautiful children. If they look like her.” His lips pull to the side around his toothpick in a smirk.

Tony laughs. “True, but. I don't want, well, a  _ wife _ .” He and Pepper weren't going to work, after all. So why bother hoping? He couldn't give up Iron Man for her, couldn't even be honest with her when he was fucking  _ dying _ . It had taken both him and Vanko putting their heads together to come up with a solution for the palladium poisoning problem. Tony probably would have figured out a solution on his own eventually, but having Vanko around had certainly sped up the process. It was also really fucking nice to talk to someone who  _ understood  _ him. He could talk math and science at the man, and he would challenge Tony with harder concepts. It was a great partnership, and Tony couldn't wait to see what kind of things they could create. 

Vanko studies him for a moment, then nods as if he's made some kind of decision. “Perhaps husband then.”

Tony chokes on his vodka and very nearly spits it all over the shiny blank marble coffee table between them. He doesn't get a chance to so much as argue before Vanko has his phone in his hand and he's texting furiously. 

“I find you good husband,” Vanko says, looking up at Tony for a moment. “Good, strong man to take care of you. Yes?” Tony's shaking his head, but he still can't quite speak yet. He's still choking on the vodka he swallowed wrong. “To say thank you, Tony.” 

Tony has a feeling he's lost this fight already. Whatever, let Vanko try. He'll find some way to gently turn down whoever Vanko sends his way. It's not that he's opposed to men, not at all, but he doesn't want anyone tied to him. No one deserves that. He's too busy and too eccentric. Not to mention the whole Iron Man gig and being a walking, talking security risk in every sense of the word. He sighs heavily and nods his acceptance. 

Vanko smiles. “So, Miss Potts is single now, yes?” 

“You know what?” Tony says, looking Vanko up and down and taking in his prison tats and wife beater and oil-stained jeans with bare feet. “Yes, yes she is.” Pepper wanted to give him so much shit over trying to hide the palladium poisoning to protect her? Let her have fun fending off Vanko. Vanko's actually a perfect gentleman, but he'll definitely not let his affections drop easily. Well, if nothing else, keeping Vanko around is bound to be damn interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O3: amnesia

Tony isn't doing much of anything at all when JARVIS suddenly mutes his music. And sure, there's probably at least a half a dozen things he  _ should _ be doing, but he just isn't all that interested right now. He finished up the repairs to his Iron Man suit, the latest prototypes for SI's stuff are all good to go, and he's really not in the mood to go near his inbox, so why not just fuck around for a little while, right? But when JARVIS lowers his music, Tony's half certain he'll tell Tony that he's due for some sort of meeting with the board of directors or something. 

“Sir,” JARVIS says, his voice startlingly quiet compared to the music that had been playing a moment ago. “I believe there is… a package waiting for you.” 

Tony frowns. A package? And what was with that hesitation, anyway? He doesn't remember ordering anything, but well, that's not all that surprising either. Sometimes Pepper buys him things she thinks he needs. Rarely, but sometimes. It's at least within the realm of possibility, especially since Tony doesn't remember any late-night drunken ventures through the depths of Amazon. 

“Let the delivery guy in,” Tony says. “Foyer, no further. I'll head up to grab it.” He could use a bite to eat, anyway. It's not like he's doing anything productive today. 

Tony opens the glass doors to his workshop and jogs lightly up the stairs. The living room is still empty at least. He wanders through to the massive foyer with a small frown, curiosity burning just under his skin. What could it even  _ be _ ?

“Stark!” Vanko's rough voice echos slightly, and Tony's face splits into a grin. He spies the man standing off to the side from Vanko, but he doesn't pay him much attention just yet. There will be time for that in a moment. He slings one arm around Vanko and slaps his back a few times. 

“Vanko, why didn't you say you were heading to the ‘States? I'd have sent a car for you at least.”

Vanko waves that off. “I have car here now,” he says easily. Tony shrugs, figures that's fair, and drops the issue. “Besides, would ruin surprise.” Vanko grins wolfishly and nudges Tony around to face the man standing a few steps away. “This is Yasha.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tony says, offering his hand. Yasha looks a little confused, but he accepts Tony's hand all the same. 

“He speaks no English,” Vanko says with a light shrug. “Could not find better.” He waves that away. “Is good husband for you. I check.”

Tony chokes on air. “Wh-what?” He'd very nearly forgotten about Vanko's ridiculous offer from a few months ago. He'd pushed the thought to the back of his mind where it wouldn't bother him. He really, really should have done more to convince Vanko to let that drop. Because dammit, now Vanko looks so fucking proud of himself, and even if it looks like Yasha has muscles for days, he has a pretty gruesome murder stare, too.

“Is good husband,” Vanko says again. “Strong.” Vanko squeezes one of Yasha’s  _ definitely _ impressive biceps. “Can fight, too. He will protect you.”

“Vanko,” Tony tries, but Vanko just grins. “Listen, buddy -”

“Is thanks,” Vanko says. He looks to Yasha. “ _ He is a good husband, no? _ ” Yasha studies Tony critically for a moment, and Tony feels weirdly like he's under a microscope, but Yasha nods eventually. 

“ _ Vanko says you speak Russian _ ,” Yasha says. His low, gravely voice reminds Tony of a damn classic Bond villain and  _ fuck _ but Tony might not be on board with the whole husband thing, but he really, really wouldn't mind taking Yasha for a ride. Or three. 

“Da,” Tony says with an easy nod and plasters on his press smile. Yasha's lips curl down into a frown, and Tony wonders how the hell the man can see through his mask so easily. That's probably one for the record books, honestly. “ _ Why did you let Vanko talk you into this insane plan of his _ ?”

“ _ Russia is not a good place for me, _ ” Yasha says with an easy shrug. Tony can accept that, but it seems like there's something more going on. 

“ _ He's better off here, _ ” Vanko says cryptically. “ _ No pretty babies from this one, but better than you being alone all the time. _ ” Vanko laughs, and it sounds like metal grinding against itself. He looks at Yasha again. “ _ He's a rich American. Weird, but he will make a good husband. He's too lonely. _ ”

“There's a reason I'm alone, Vanko,” Tony reminds him, none too gently. “Iron Man, remember?”

“Eh,” Vanko says with a light shrug. “Yasha can defend himself, and you, without your fancy suit.” He reaches out and squeezes Tony's shoulder. “Where is vodka, Stark? Was long flight. I'm hungry.”

Tony sighs, resigns himself to this totally bizarre situation, and turns on his heel. He waves for them to follow him and they make their way to the living room. Tony stops by the bar to grab the bottle of Kauffmann he prefers over Vanko's straight Russian Standard, finds three glasses, and pours them all a hefty drink. Might as well relax for a while, he supposes. 

“Hey, JARVIS? Order from that little Italian place I like.” Tony looks at Vanko and Yasha, who have made themselves comfortable on his couch. It's a new couch, not the one Stane paralyzed him on, but he still can't bear to sit there. “ _ What kind of Italian do you want _ ?”

Yasha shrugs, looks honestly adorably hopeless and lost when faced with the option, and Vanko waves to signal he doesn't care as he takes the glass of vodka Tony offers him. Tony sighs and has JARVIS order one of everything. Hell, maybe they'll find something they like. 

“ _ Who is Jarvis? _ ” Yasha asks. Tony can see the way he looks around the wide, open room, the way his eyes linger on the spectacular beach view, and then continue on to do a second circuit of the floor. Paranoia, maybe? But, no, that's closer to the way Rhodey looks when he's checking out an unfamiliar place or looking for threats. Former military, maybe?

“ _ My AI. Artificial Intelligence. He's a computer. If you need anything, ask JARVIS. He'll understand and answer you in Russian, don't worry.” _ Tony doesn't quite know why he feels the need to reassure Yasha. Maybe it's the absolutely rigid way he's holding himself. 

“ _ Like my JOCASTA _ ,” Vanko offers. Yasha nods, but he doesn't relax. “I will be here for few days, perhaps week. I'm seeing Miss Potts.” Vanko grins like a shark.

“Good luck, buddy,” Tony says with his own shark-smile. “Does Yasha here have a family name?” Vanko simply shakes his head. Tony finds that really weird, but, well, weirder things have happened. His level for weird was more than a little skewed after Stane showed up in the Iron Monger suit, and then again after Vanko showed up the first time. Not to mention the reports about the Hulk destroying Harlem or that someone found Captain fucking America frozen but still, impossibly, alive. 

“Where did you even find this guy?” Tony asks. He can see Yasha become even more stiff, realizes he should probably switch the conversation to Russian so Yasha doesn't feel left out, and repeats the question in the appropriate language. 

“ _ Prison _ ,” Yasha answers, deceptively simply. 

Vanko nods. “ _ Cellmate _ .  _ He beat a man for raping a woman. _ ” 

Oh. Well. That… clears up exactly nothing, really. “ _ Wait, did you go to prison again?”  _ he asks Vanko, more than a little exasperated.

“ _ Eh, for a month _ ,” he shrugs. It probably isn't a big deal to him. Tony knows perfectly well the man has been in and out of prison for a number of things. “ _ Wasn't worth the bribes to get out sooner _ .”

“ _ I'm a billionaire, _ ” Tony reminds Vanko. “ _ Call me next time. _ ” Vanko offers a shrug and a nod, like he'll think about it. Tony doubts he'll get a call. “ _ Do you have an education _ ?” He asks Yasha directly.

“ _ Some _ ,” is Yasha's less than helpful answer. Tony rolls his eyes. “ _ Not an American education _ .” 

“ _ Vanko doesn't have one of those, either, and he's the smartest bastard I know _ .” Vanko laughs again, but he doesn't cut in. “ _ Did you finish high school _ ?”

Yasha frowns. “ _ I don't remember _ .” 

“ _ He has memory problems, _ ” Vanko says easily. “ _ From past, not present. He remembers everything from now. Like you _ .” Vanko nods at Tony. 

Tony narrows his eyes. He's met very few people with a true eidetic memory like himself. The concept of a photographic memory is more widespread and a little different. Tony doesn't just remember things he sees, though. He remembers  _ everything _ . It's more of a curse than a blessing. He isn't sure how someone with an eidetic memory can have memory problems, though, not without some sort of violent head trauma. Then again. Russian prison. It's definitely possible, probably even likely.

“ _ Alright _ ,” Tony says with a nod, accepting that for now. “ _ You're welcome to stay for the week, at least until Vanko heads home. If you decide you don't like it here, no hard feelings. _ ” He won't turn the man out, that's for damn sure. Even as an eye-candy trophy-husband, the man would be perfect. The lack of English would only make things easier, really, since he can't talk to the press as easily. He'll need to get some copies of his NDAs translated into Russian for him, though. 

“Good!” Vanko says loudly, voice echoing slightly. The room was built for the acoustics from his grand piano to fill the entire floor, after all. “ _ Where is food, Stark? _ ”

“ _ The estimated time of arrival is twenty-six minutes _ ,” JARVIS answers, his posh accent still filtering through even in Russian. Yasha looks curious rather than murderous this time, and god, but Tony likes that expression. He looks like a kitten. A panther kitten, but still a kitten.

“ _ Do you have luggage? _ ” Tony asks Yasha. He shakes his head, which makes Tony frown.

“ _ Prison _ ,” Vanko reminds him. “ _ He has nothing. _ ” 

Tony stands and walks over to the kitchen were he left one of his tablets. He finds a few catalogs and brings them up for Yasha to sort through. “ _ Order whatever you like. JARVIS will set up an appointment with my tailor later if you need it _ .” Yasha looks perplexed, yet another fucking adorable expression, but he takes the tablet. 

“ _ What have you been working on _ ?” Vanko asks, and from that, their conversation devolves into pure shop-talk. Tony can't say he minds. It's certainly better than trying to figure out what the actual fuck he's going to do with what is, essentially, a mail-order bride. Well. Husband. 

The food arrives while he and Vanko are still deep in conversation. Tony doesn't even realize it's there until he has a plate of steaming lasagna with a fork tucked along the edge of the plate dropped neatly into his lap. Vanko's plate goes on the table. He looks over at Yasha with a frown.

“ _ You didn't have to do that _ ,” Tony says slowly, trying to figure out what just happened. 

“ _ You were working _ ,” is all Yasha has to say. He has his own plate as well, at least. 

“ _ Thank you _ ,” Tony says quietly. He takes a bite and sighs a little. He loves this lasagna, honestly. “ _ Eat as much as you like. There's plenty, and more to drink at the bar or in the fridge _ .” Yasha nods once, curtly, but then Vanko is reeling him back into their conversation about the arc reactor. 

Before Tony quite knows what's happened, he's finished eating and he's on his third or fourth glass of vodka. The glass keeps magically refilling itself somehow. Or maybe that's Yasha. Tony isn't used to anyone doing that sort of thing for him, isn't used to  _ letting _ anyone do that sort of thing for him. But it keeps happening before he realizes it and by then it's too late to really stop it. It's also actually, well, late. It's dark out, anyway, and Tony notices that Yasha looks pretty damn tired. 

“Okay, okay,” Tony says with a little laugh. “ _ We can talk about it more tomorrow. Yasha here looks like he's going to fall asleep on the couch, and I have way too many comfortable beds to choose from for all that. Are you staying, Vanko?”  _

“ _ No, _ ” Vanko says with a knowing sort of smile. “ _ Tomorrow. Thirteen-hundred. I will see Miss Potts at ten-hundred. We will go to your workshop. _ ”

“ _ Fine, fine _ ,” Tony says, waving that away. He hasn't cleared Yasha for the ‘shop, yet, so he won't be allowed down there. Maybe Yasha can spend some time on the beach or something. Or whatever he wants to do. Tony has no idea what sort of things the man likes to do. That's probably something he should figure out, honestly. 

They stand and see Vanko out to the car JARVIS has already hired for him. JARVIS won't let anyone drive drunk. He's a good kid, Tony thinks with a fond smile as Vanko argues with him in angry Russian. Finally, he gives in and accepts the ride. Tony will happily pay for Vanko's ride back out to his house tomorrow morning to get his car anyway. That leaves Yasha and Tony to just sort of stare at each other for a moment.

“ _Let's find a room for you,_ ” Tony offers. Yasha doesn't nod, but he does follow when Tony turns and walks through the house. The Malibu mansion has eight guest rooms, some a little nicer than others. Tony puts Yasha in the one near his own because it has the second best view and it's the second largest bedroom. He isn't about to suggest the man sleep with him, after all. Tony gives Yasha a very quick tour of the room which basically includes pointing out which door leads to the closet and which door leads to the bathroom, then he tells Yasha to sleep well and vanishes into his own room for a cold shower.

Tony doesn't wear pajamas to bed. He hasn't since MIT, and only then because of Rhodey. He sleeps nude, and he has the nicest sheets money can buy because of that. The arc reactor gets a little sensitive anyway, so it's nice to have as little as possible touching it at night. That's part of the reason he'd cut holes in some of his shirts. The constant rub from his shirt over the reactor annoyed him to no end on bad days. 

He's barely settled in his bed when he hears a very faint knock at his door. “Yasha?” The door opens enough for Yasha, or what looks mostly like Yasha in the dark, to slip inside and shut the door behind himself. Tony's mouth goes dry as Yasha comes closer.

Yasha is wearing only a pair of clinging boxer briefs that leave very, very little to Tony's overactive imagination. And he has a fucking metal arm. How Tony hadn't noticed that before is a goddamn miracle, but Yasha had been wearing a hoodie and leather jacket, and now that he thinks about it, he'd kept his left hand in his pocket or hidden by his side for most of the night. But holy mother of Tesla it's  _ beautiful _ . Tony wants to touch it. Maybe lick it. He sits up as Yasha comes closer. The soft blue glow from the arc reactor paints Yasha in an eerie light, but rather than look creepy, he looks angelic or something else equally poetic. Tony barely registers the tattoos that litter his body, much like Vanko's but not as noticeable with clothes covering them

“ _ Need anything _ ?” Tony finally manages to ask. 

“ _ You _ ,” Yasha answers as he plants one knee on the edge of Tony's massive bed. He crawls over the bed to reach Tony in the center and straddles Tony's lap. Tony swears his heart is going to fucking  _ stop _ . “ _ It is my duty, as your husband _ .”

Tony shakes his head rapidly, mind clearing for a moment. “ _ No, never a duty _ ,” he says firmly. “ _ Never. Only a pleasure. Only if you want to. It's never expected from you to do anything you don't want to do. _ ” 

Yasha considers this for a moment, still sitting in Tony's lap but not actually touching him other than the insides of his thighs and calves. He lifts his hand - the metal left hand, and holds it up for Tony to look at. “ _ This does not disgust you _ ?”

“ _ This doesn't disgust  _ you?” Tony counters, tapping lightly at the casing on the arc reactor. Yasha shakes his head. Tony takes Yasha's metal fingers and draws them to his lips to press a light kiss to the tips. “ _ This arm is beautiful and I want to look at it in detail tomorrow. If you'll let me. _ ” Yasha nods. “ _ You don't have to do anything, Yasha. Nothing you don't want to do. _ ”

“ _ And if I do want to do something _ ?” Yasha asks, his head tipped to one side, the long strands of dark brown hair cascading over his shoulder with the movement. 

“ _ Asking nicely goes a long way _ ,” Tony says with his classic playboy smirk, the one he hasn't worn in over a year. Not since...god, fucking Christine Everhart. Has it really been that fucking long? 

Yasha drops his hips to Tony's sheet-covered lap and rolls them along Tony's half-erection, one arm draped around Tony's neck and his face suddenly very, very close to Tony's. “ _ Please _ ?” His gunmetal gray eyes are half-lidded, but Tony can still see how wide his pupils are. Tony imagines his own are just as blown. 

“Fuck yes,” Tony whispers in English, then again in Russian. He wraps one hand around the back of Yasha's neck and drags him in for a harsh, biting kiss that Yasha returns just as roughly. Tony groans into Yasha's mouth when Yasha bites gently on Tony's bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth to tongue at it. Tony's other hand spans down Yasha's back, taking in all the well-defined muscle as Yasha's hands roam Tony's sides and back as well. Yasha flinches a little when Tony gets too close to the scars around his left shoulder, so Tony makes a careful note in his mind to avoid that area and focuses on Yasha's ribs and abs for a moment instead. Yasha stays clear of the arc reactor altogether, for which Tony is immensely grateful. 

Yasha doesn't stay near Tony's mouth for long. Instead, he breaks away to kiss down Tony's neck leaving behind a trail of tiny nips and little kitten licks until he gets to Tony's collarbone. At that point, he latches on, sucking and biting and licking at the skin until Tony's damn sure he'll have the world's worst hickey. He couldn't fucking care less, though, as Yasha's hips continue a slow, steady grind down into his own, not quite rubbing against his cock, but almost. It's the  _ almost  _ that keeps Tony suspended in a heady, almost needy, level of not-damn-enough and holy-Einstein-that-feels-good. 

Tony doesn't like to be teased all that much, though. He isn't one for patience. Never has been one of his best qualities. Or even one of his qualities at all. So he drags Yasha's mouth back up to his with a firm hand on the side of his jaw while his other hand tugs at the hem of Yasha's boxer-briefs to reach the prize inside. He moans when his hand wraps around Yasha's cock. He's delightfully large. Not massive, no, but long enough to feel good and thick enough to leave Tony with a pleasant ache that will last all through tomorrow. He curls his hand around Yasha's cock at the base and uses his calloused hand to stoke upwards oh so slowly. He's rewarded with a low, ragged groan from Yasha, and Tony grins into their jagged kiss. He knows it can't feel all that great without lube or anything to ease the way, but he does it once more anyway, just for the feeling of Yasha's cock in his hand. 

When he pulls his hand away, Yasha breaks their kiss with a small frown on his face. Tony can't help but laugh lightly and lean up to peck a quick kiss to the corner of Yasha's mouth. “ _ I have all we need. One second _ .” He nudges Yasha back gently, and Yasha responds immediately, backing off entirely. Tony rolls to the side to open the drawer on his nightstand for the bottle of lube and one of the condoms he keeps stashed in there at all times. There are a few other things as well, but he doesn't think they'll be that adventurous tonight. He doesn't quite want them to be.

Tony offers both to Yasha, who takes them in his hands. As much as Tony would absolutely love for Yasha to ride him, that isn't what he wants tonight. So instead, he rolls to his stomach so that he's in roughly the same position he was in to start with, only facing the opposite direction, and the sheet is down below his ass. He lifts himself up to his hands and knees and looks back at Yasha with a smirk.

“ _ Feel like doing all the work tonight _ ?” Tony asks, teasing only a little.

Yasha's wide-eyed stare meets his, but he nods. “ _ This is...preferred. _ ” Yasha says it slowly, his eyes dragging away from Tony's at the admission. 

Tony lowers his ass and half turns. He stretches out his palm to cradle Yasha's cheek in his hand. Yasha flinches as if he were expecting a blow. “ _ Yet you were willing to let me fuck you _ ?” Yasha nods. “ _ We will discuss that more tomorrow. For now, all I will say is that your preferences, your pleasure, matters. Make sure you use the condom, and prep me well. I haven't seen any action in a damn long time and you're big.”  _

Yasha meets his eyes again, and Yasha's gaze is softer this time. He nods solemnly. Tony smiles for him, reaches back to kiss him, lightly at first, then downright filthy with his tongue shoved halfway down Yasha's throat, and then he pulls away and bends over. He sinks down to rest his head on one of his many pillows, but he pushes his ass high in the air for easy access. The position isn't exactly easy on his chest, but he can manage for a while.

What surprises him is that Yasha lifts his chest a little first and shoves two pillows stacked on top of each other just under where his arc reactor sits in his chest. It makes the position much easier to hold while still keeping his ass high in the air. After that, Yasha trails his fingers across Tony's shoulders and down his back, his touch light and almost ticklish. Tony sighs a little at how gentle Yasha is. It feels nice, honestly, and it relaxes him. 

And then Yasha kisses his ass cheek. It's just a soft brush of lips across each cheek at first, and then he kisses over Tony's tailbone, up his back a little, on each hip, then across his ass once more, and down to his thighs. Tony pushes his ass a little higher in the air, hopefully signaling what he wants without having to say it. He thinks trying to ask for what he wants in Russian probably won't come out quite right. 

He doesn't have to ask. Yasha doesn't even work Tony up to it. He slides his tongue, flat, over Tony's hole, and Tony moans loudly enough for it to echo in the room. Yasha's hands grip Tony's hips as he continues to lick and suck, his tongue pointing and dipping inside him, somehow getting through the tight ring of muscle with ease. Tony writhes beneath him, clenching pillows and arching his back, muttering praises and curses in a mixture of English and Russian - and probably Italian, too. 

Yasha doesn't linger particularly long. “ _ Not tonight, _ ” he says quietly, one hand smoothing over Tony's ass until cool, slick knuckles brush over the hole he's just finished sucking at. “ _ Later. I will make you come for me, just from my tongue. _ ” 

“ _ Fine by me, _ ” Tony gasps as one finger nudges its way inside him, stretching him open, but not unpleasantly. “ _ Anytime you want. _ ” This man can't possibly be human. Vanko must have...done something. Made him in a fucking lab. Tony doesn't know, but he also doesn't particularly care. Yasha's fingers work him open quickly, only just barely giving him the time to adjust before adding another and stretching him wider, then wider still with the addition of a third finger. 

After the third finger, Yasha twists until he finds Tony's prostate. Tony  _ shouts _ when he brushes his fingers over it. Yasha's low chuckle from behind him sounds positively, terrifyingly, evil. Tony loves the sound immediately.

“ _ Good _ ?” Yasha asks, voice smug. 

Tony nods helplessly for a moment, trying to catch his breath against the now near-constant assault. “Christ, yes.” He can hear how out-of-breath he sounds and sort of hates himself for it. “ _ Goddamnit, stop teasing _ ,” he groans. “ _ Fuck me already _ .” 

“Shh,” Yasha says softly. He kisses his way across Tony's shoulders, but he does back off Tony's prostate for a moment. “ _ Still too tense. _ ” Tony groans softly as Yasha works his fingers in and out, stretching them wide. He takes several deep breaths and tries to force his muscles to loosen faster. “ _ Good _ .” 

“ _ Get in me _ ,” Tony says, half breathless with want. He buries his moan into a pillow as Yasha slowly withdraws his fingers. He hears the condom wrapper crinkling and the lube cap snap open. A second later, he feels Yasha's fingers pressing more cool lube inside him, and he shivers. The fingers don't remain for long, though they tease at his rim for a moment, catching on it and teasing the sensitive nerves. Tony shivers. 

“ _ Deep breath _ ,” Yasha says, voice low and soft and so very gentle. Tony nods and does as he's asked when he feels the firm head pushing at his ass. Yasha's hand rubs up and down his back slowly. “ _ Breathe out. Relax. _ ”

Tony snorts. “ _ I've done this before, it's just been a while _ ,” he says. He listens, though, and exhales slowly. Yasha's cock feels ridiculously large as he pushes inside Tony, far larger than he had in Tony's hand. Tony whines at the intrusion. For all Yasha had prepped him, it still burns, still aches. Yasha presses all the way in to the hilt and stills, both hands rubbing Tony's back and sides, encouraging him to breathe. Tony's about two seconds away from calling it quits - it has been too damn long, he thinks - when the burn eases and he feels like he can actually breathe again. He gasps a little, and Yasha makes a soft humming sound, like he knows and approves. 

“ _ Better now, yes _ ?” Yasha asks. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Tony sighs. He wiggles his hips experimentally, moaning lightly at the feeling of Yasha's frankly massive damn cock moving inside him. He hadn't felt that big in his shorts, dammit. Yasha groans, the sound deep and low. It feels like it reverberates through Tony's back. “ _ Move _ .”

Tony's demand is answered immediately. Yasha pulls out slowly and pushes back in just as slowly. Tony chokes back a strangled-sounding moan. Once Yasha is fully seated inside him again, Tony grinds his hips back into Yasha's, nearly blinding himself with pleasure when Yasha's cock rubs directly against his prostate. 

“ _ Faster, _ ” Tony gasps, pushing up on his hands to give himself more leverage. Yasha doesn't hesitate. His hands grip Tony's hips a little harder, a little more surely. He drags his cock out just as slowly, but then he nearly slams into Tony. Tony screams. It tapers off to curses and praises and, “ _ Fuck, more, again, again, don't fucking stop _ .” Yasha doesn't disappoint. 

His cock drills into Tony better than a goddamn fucking machine, Tony swears. He'd intended to meet Yasha's thrusts, but he's barely keeping himself upright against Yasha's lightning quick, deep, hard thrusts. Had the bed been made any less perfect than it was, it would have been slamming into the wall or possibly breaking apart under the onslaught. As it is, the mattress is creaking and groaning right along with both Tony and Yasha. 

“Gonna cum,” Tony mutters, unaware that he's slipped back into English. “Fuck. Fuck, Yasha!” Tony writhes on Yasha's cock. It's been nailing his prostate perfectly for every single thrust, dragging against it and hitting it. Tony can't think of a single time he's ever been fucked this damn well, especially not by someone he doesn't know, by someone he's never been with before. It's insane. He's pretty sure he won't give this up anytime soon. Yasha is his newest addiction, and he isn't ashamed in the least. 

“ _ So close _ ,” Yasha pants into his ear, sloppily kissing his cheek. Tony screams again when he feels Yasha's hand on his cock. He's done for, then, blowing his load all over the sheets and pillows beneath him. He doesn't have it in him to give a single fuck about that, not with Yasha's cock still nailing his prostate, still milking every drop of cum from him. 

He feels it when Yasha tenses over him, hears the longest groan yet, absolutely loves the way Yasha's arms tighten around his entire body, pulling him tight and holding him close. It feels perfect as Tony's own cock pulses weakly with aftershocks. He whimpers slightly as Yasha pulls out of him, hates the gaping, empty feeling left after all that. Yasha rolls to his side on the far end of the bed, and to Tony's never-ending surprise tonight, gently reaches over and tugs Tony with him, wrapping up Tony in his arms and holding him against his chest to keep him out of the mess of cooling cum in the center of the bed. 

“ _ That was… something _ ,” Tony says with a dry laugh. Yasha's fingers trail over Tony's sweaty shoulder. “ _ Haven't been fucked that well in… probably ever. Think I'll keep you _ .” It's meant as a joke, but judging from the lazy, satisfied smile that stretches across Yasha's face, he doesn't exactly take it that way. Well. Tony isn't really the type to go back on his word.

“ _ This is a mess, _ ” Yasha says after a moment of lying quietly, basking in the afterglow and cooling down. He shifts Tony to the side and then stands. He quickly tugs the condom off his cock with a slight grimace and tosses it into the trash can on the other side of the room. Tony wonders how the fuck he managed to make that sort of shot - in the dark no less - but he doesn't ask because the next thing he knows, Yasha is picking him up.

“ _ What are you doing _ ?” Tony demands, just a little angry, but honestly too impressed by the raw show of strength to get too worked up over it. 

“ _ Taking you to the other room _ ,” Yasha answers simply. “ _ This bed is not clean. That one is. It's better for sleeping _ .” 

“Okay, then,” Tony says slowly. He doesn't put up any sort of argument or fight as Yasha carries him into the guest room and over to the other bed. He lays him down gently on one side of the bed, but he makes no immediate move to get into the bed himself. Tony rolls his eyes and grabs Yasha's hand to tug him down into the bed as well as he shifts over to the side. “ _ Come on, you too. _ ”

Yasha frowns a little, not like he's upset, but like he doesn't understand. It's fucking cute and a little sad, and Tony has to wonder why. He doesn't feel up to asking right now, but he tries to make a mental note to himself to remember to ask later. 

“ _ This was meant to be your bed. I won't take it from you, especially not after giving me the best cock I've had in years. Possibly ever. Now cuddle me and sleep. Maybe we can get another round in tomorrow morning before Vanko shows up _ .” 

Yasha smiles a little tentatively at that, but he does settle into the bed and wrap his arms around Tony. Tony worms his way into the most comfortable position he can manage, with his head resting on Yasha's flesh shoulder and Yasha's metal arm draped over Tony's waist. It's oddly comforting. Tony is pretty damn tired, and he drops off to sleep almost directly after he feels Yasha press a gentle kiss to his head. Weird, he thinks, that Yasha looks like a hardened criminal, is built like brick shithouse, and is still so damn sweet. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can i shoe-horn in by square N5: high heels for this chapter?

Pepper slams her car door rather viciously when she steps out onto Tony's driveway. Her conversation with Vanko is still ringing in her ears, and she doesn't slow, despite the spiked four inch heels she'd worn to lunch, as she stomps up to Tony's front door. JARVIS lets her in without argument. 

“Tony!” Pepper shouts, her voice echoing through the big house. She half expects JARVIS to direct her down to the workshop, but then she hears Tony call to her, so she follows the sound. 

He's… in the kitchen. She's not sure she's ever really actually seen him in the kitchen other than to reheat takeout or to grab something to drink. But here he is, with… a man… draped across his back. They're both shirtless and in swim trunks, hair still damp. The man is very tall and muscular and, frankly, gorgeous, but Pepper isn't about to admit that to Tony. The weird part, though, is that they're  _ cooking _ . 

“Pepper!” Tony greets with a wide grin. She immediately spots several large hickeys across his collar bones and down his chest. “Light of my life! How are you, my beautiful CEO?”

“Tony, who is this?” Pepper asks, fighting to keep her voice low and neutral and level. She flashes the stranger a quick, tight smile. Surely this  _ can't  _ be the man Vanko mentioned. He - he has a  _ metal arm _ . 

“This is Yasha,” Tony says with a bright smile. It isn't even fake, which might be the most surprising part of all this. “He’s Russian, and he doesn’t speak any English.” Tony turns his head to the man - Yasha - and speaks to him in fluent, quick Russian. Pepper knew he spoke the language, but she’d never heard it before. It was… odd. She wonders what he’s saying. Tony laughs at whatever it is that Yasha says in return.

“As… cozy as this looks, I’m afraid I need to borrow Tony for a moment,” Pepper says with a tight smile. JARVIS or Tony can translate, she supposes. She doesn’t know Russian. She looks at Tony pointedly. “A moment, Tony?  _ Outside _ ?”

Tony sighs and rolls his eyes, the usual huffing-and-puffing she expects. She can’t help when her eyes widen in complete surprise when Tony stretches up to kiss Yasha and murmur something softly to him. Yasha nods and kisses Tony’s forehead before he lets Tony slip from his arms. Then Tony walks toward Pepper as if none of that just happened, or as if it were perfectly normal. 

Pepper leads Tony out to the deck that wraps around the house and shuts the door firmly behind Tony. She doesn’t know for sure if Yasha really does only speak Russian or not, but she won’t take any chances. “Tony, what the hell?” her voice rises to something of an unflattering pitch as she asks her question.

“Vanko brought him,” Tony says with an easy shrug. “He… well, at the time, I thought he was joking. But he’d said something, right after the shit with Hammer was finally done and over with. Mentioned that a man like me shouldn’t be alone. I told him I wasn’t interested in a wife, and he took it the wrong way, decided he’d find me a husband instead.” Pepper sighs. Only Vanko. Then Tony grins and nods his head toward the door. “And fuck, did he ever. I’m keeping him, Pep. I want that fantastic dick and the beautiful, gentle, sweet man attached to it.”

Pepper rubs at her forehead with three fingers. She can already feel a tension headache building. “Really, Tony?”

“Yep.” He’s obnoxious enough to pop the “p.” 

“Have - have you even thought this through?” she asks, dropping her hand to cross her arms over her chest. “Do you know his history? How can you be sure he isn’t just trying to use you for your money or for your tech? Christ, Tony, think about this with your actual brain and not your dick for five seconds!”

“I have,” Tony says simply. “Yasha has memory issues. Some form of amnesia, I guess. Probably head trauma. Vanko met him in prison.” Pepper makes an offended noise in her throat, but Tony pushes on without giving her a chance to speak. “Save it, Pep. I’ve already found the records. He was arrested for beating a man to death with that fancy metal arm of his. The man was raping a woman, someone Yasha knew. The guy’s death wasn’t intentional, but Yasha’s crazy strong, and well. Metal arm.” Tony shrugs like that isn’t a big deal when it clearly  _ is _ . “He doesn’t know his name. Yasha is the only name he can give anyone. His prison records were spotless, Pep, and you’ve seen Vanko. The guy is a damn genius and he still makes trouble whenever he’s in prison. Yasha never did anything. At all.”

“That’s not -” Pepper chokes on her words, her incredulity making her brain short circuit. She’s felt like this before, but usually that was with the idiots she’s had to talk her way around in board meetings or mergers, never with Tony himself. “Tony, that’s still not okay! What the hell makes you think any part of this is acceptable?”

“Because I don’t care about any of that?” Tony says, raising his eyebrows at her. “Look, you know just as well as I do that I’ve killed my fair share of people. Yasha has been…” He gets a strange, distant look in his eyes. It’s a look Pepper has seen a few times before, but not one she’s overly familiar with. “Yasha has been absolutely perfect since he’s been here. It’s been a week. Sure, he’s asked questions, but he hasn’t tried to get into the workshop, hasn’t tried to hack into anything, hasn’t even been nosey enough to try and get answers out of JARVIS. He’s a perfect gentleman, honestly. He’s exactly what my mom always tried to turn me into.” 

“Tony,” Pepper says softly. She walks a little closer to him, but he takes a few steps back. That’s something she doesn’t like. He’s been distant from her since the palladium poisoning, and while she hadn’t understood what was happening at the time, she can look back and see all the signs now. Problem is, nothing’s changed since he and Vanko figured out the other core for the arc reactor powering the electromagnet in his chest. He’s still distant, still so  _ alone _ .

“Vanko vouches for him,” Tony says simply. “I doubt he’d have brought Yasha all the way out here if he wasn’t good enough. You know how Vanko is.” 

All Pepper can do is nod. She  _ does  _ know. Vanko has some strange concepts about what constitutes as “good enough,” especially considering he doesn’t care at all about his wardrobe, but his sense of loyalty and respect are second to none. 

“Have you at least tried to figure out who he is?” Pepper asks.

Tony nods. “Yeah, and there’s nothing. And I mean that literally. You know how JARVIS is. If it was possible to find something on this guy, we’d have found it. So I don’t know where he came from or anything, but I do know how he’s treated me since he’s been here. He’s probably former military, I can say that based on the way he walks and looks at things. You know how Rhodey does that thing?” Pepper nods, even though Tony could be referencing several different ‘things’ because she’s fairly sure he means all of them at once. “Yasha does that, too. He loves the ocean like you wouldn’t believe, and I went swimming for the first time since Afghanistan because of him. He’s… fuck, Pep, he’s literally perfect. I accused Vanko of building him the other day. Vanko just laughed and said he chose well. Couldn’t argue with that.”

Pepper sighs softly, her arms shifting from an offensive stance to something that looks more like she’s hugging herself. “Oh, Tony.” She nods a little. “Fine, all right. Do what you want. I know I can’t stop you.”

“Then draw up the paperwork, Pep, ‘cause I’m not letting this one leave.”

“Wait.” She watches as Tony ignores her and heads back into the house. “Tony!” She chases after him, following him through the kitchen. “What the hell do you mean? What paperwork?”

“Prenup? Will? Whatever else I need to do to get married? Yasha can just take my name, it’ll keep things simple. And, you know, all the NDAs. Make sure you get copies of everything in Russian so Yasha can read it.” Tony grins at her as he settles against Yasha’s side. Yasha’s arm fits around Tony’s shoulders easily, even as the man is focused on flipping perfectly thin crepes. “Won’t it be nice, not having to worry about him saying anything to the press?” Tony laughs.

Pepper gapes at him, perfectly aware that she probably looks like a fish. “You’re serious.” She can hear her own voice, and it sounds shocked and just a little bit outraged. “Tony! You’ve known him a week!”

“So what?” Tony asks with a shrug. “I’m a genius billionaire. I do what I want.” He grins. “If it doesn’t work out, you can tell me you told me so. How’s that?”

“I’ll do more than that,” Pepper mutters. She shakes her head and grabs her phone from her pocket. “Fine, Tony. Whatever. But you know what?  _ You  _ have to tell Rhodes.” She stalks toward the living room with a huff. “And get me some wine! I’m staying here tonight to deal with your ridiculous bullshit, Tony, and JARVIS is going to help me! You’d best make me a nice dinner, too!” 

“Anything you say, Pep!” Tony shouts back cheerfully. 

Pepper rolls her eyes as she falls into the couch. She doesn’t feel graceful and elegant like she always tries to project, not right now. She slides off her shoes and leaves them tucked under the end table beside the couch before grabbing one of Tony’s tablets and searching up all the documentation she’ll need. It’ll take her most of the night to get everything together and sent to the legal department. 

When Tony comes in with a plate of crepes and a very full glass of wine, she glares at him. “You owe me more shoes. And a diamond bracelet. And art. And a new dress.”

“Literally whatever you want,” Tony says as he sets her plate and glass on the end table. He bends over her and kisses her cheek lightly. “You have all my credit card numbers. Buy yourself a boat for all I care. You’re magnificent and I don’t know what I’d ever do without you.”

“But you just can’t live without him, huh?” Pepper asks softly. It’s not unkind, and not full of jealousy or spite, though she really did believe she loved him in the not-so-distant past. 

“I…” Tony looks over his shoulder to the entrance to the kitchen, and he gets a stupid, soft look on his face. “I really don’t think I want to, even if I probably could.”

“You’re hopeless,” Pepper says, rolling her eyes. She takes the wine glass from the table and has a large sip. “Completely and utterly hopeless. I want you to know that.”

“Oh, I already know,” Tony says with a grin. What surprises her is when Tony actually takes the plate and glass Yasha offers him. Tony’s always had a thing about not being handed things, she knows because she’s had to take things from other people and then hand them to Tony herself. It’s… sort of sweet, and a little nice that Tony is already letting Yasha in like that, this soon. She thinks it’s completely insane and she sort of wants to hit Tony over the head until he comes to his senses, but it’s still sweet. Like he said, though. He’s a billionaire. He can do what he wants. And she’ll help him do it, if only to see him happy and smiling again. He deserves that much after the shit he’s been through.

“So,” Pepper says once Tony and Yasha are comfortable together on the loveseat across from her. “Tell me about him.”

Tony’s bright grin, which isn’t even a little bit sarcastic, warms her heart a little. And maybe there is a little bit of jealousy there, for Yasha being able to do so quickly what she wasn’t able to do in so many years at Tony’s side. But she’s still grateful. She’ll murder Yasha with one of her shoes if he hurts Tony in any way, of course, but for now, she’ll be happy for them and let them be ridiculous together. Because Tony might be insane with his plans to marry Yasha after knowing him for only a week, but Yasha is looking at Tony with the same, stupid, love-sick expression that Pepper sort of hates just a little bit. Hopefully they’ll be good for each other. Maybe they can even be that one couple everyone lowkey hates because they’re just so disgustingly happy together. She’ll certainly do what she can to help, anyway. That’s all she can do.


	4. Chapter 4

“Platypus!” Tony shouts as soon as Rhodes answers the phone. “There's a plane waiting for you, hot stuff. Make sure you're on it when it takes off. I've already cleared your leave for you. Thank me later.” Tony grins at Rhodes’ mildly perplexed expression.

“Why? Are you dying again?” Rhodes asks. 

Tony clutches his arc reactor dramatically. “You wound me, honeybear. No, no, not dying. You're throwing me a bachelor party.” Tony waits with a wild grin. 1… 2… 3…. 4…

“Wait, what?” Rhodes raises both eyebrows. “Is this a joke bachelor party to piss off the press again? Because you  _ swore _ we would never do that again after the last time.”

Tony nearly doubles over laughing. Yasha smirks at him from where he's sitting just out of view of the camera. JARVIS is helpfully translating their conversation for him into an earpiece Tony designed and built a few days ago. 

“No, no,” Tony says, wiping at his eyes. “Though thank you for that wonderful reminder. You can tell my fiance all about it.”

“Who is she?” Rhodes asks with a heavy sigh. He doesn't even look surprised. Which, ouch. 

Tony slides across the couch to fit up against Yasha's side. “His name is Yasha,” Tony says with a devilish grin. “He's Russian and he doesn't speak any English.” Yasha gives Rhodes a polite wave. 

“Tony, man, what the hell?” Rhodes groans. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is this some kind of PR stunt?”

“No,” Tony says, his expression falling into something serious. Admittedly, it's fair for Rhodes to think that. “We're really getting married. This Saturday. It's a small thing. Like, microscopic. You, Pep, Happy, Vanko, maybe Agent - haven't decided. And of course me and Yasha and whoever Pep scares up to do the actual marrying. It'll be here at the house. Reception on the beach.”

Rhodes just stares at Tony for a long moment, like he's trying to figure out if Tony is really serious or not. Again, that's pretty fair. “Okay,” he says slowly. “So this is a thing that's happening. I can roll with that.” He shrugs his shoulders to disguise how he's forcing himself to loosen his posture. “Right. Russian only?” Yasha nods. “Then how did he just understand that?”

“Built him a thing,” Tony says. “JARVIS translates everything we're saying into an earpiece.” Tony shifts the phone to show Rhodes the tiny bit of flesh-toned plastic. “Oh, and, you know? He even has a metal arm.”

“Christ, Tony, where did you even find this guy?” 

“Vanko found him for me,” Tony says, back to grinning like a loon. “They met in prison.” 

Rhodes sighs, the long-suffering one that's probably his favorite to use when dealing with Tony. “Really, man? You let  _ Vanko _ set you up, but you won't let me?”

“To be fair, at the time Vanko said he'd find me a good husband, I sort of thought he was joking. And then he just showed up at the house with Yasha about three weeks ago, so.”

“You've only known this guy for  _ three weeks _ ?” Rhodes is irritated now. Tony can tell because the little vein in his forehead is pulsing. “Listen, Tones. You know you're my best friend in the entire world. Right? Right. And I've stuck by you through a lot of really insane shit. But this is next level. Even for you.”

“You can't stop it,” Tony says with an easy shrug that belies how tense he is. Yasha notices, though, like always - which is frankly amazing - and he rubs his hand over Tony's thigh to soothe him. “You might as well get on the plane, come party with me, and then you can embarrass the shit out of me when you give your best man speech.” 

“You're damn right I'm coming,” Rhodes grumbles. “I'm not about to let you get fucking  _ married _ without me there. Just… come on, man, don't you think this is a little much?” 

“Nope,” Tony says. “I'll tell you the same thing I told Pepper. There's no way in hell I'm letting that dick, or the sweet, wonderful, kind, amazing, handsome man attached to it, get away from me.” It takes a couple seconds for the translation to get to Yasha, but once it does, he flushes a pretty pink color and leans in to kiss Tony's cheek, murmuring sweet little things in Russian in his ear while sliding his hand further up Tony's thigh to gently grasp his dick and give it a soft squeeze. Tony gives Yasha a wicked grin and kisses him, but doesn't let it get out of control. 

“Well, he sure knows how to play you like a damn fiddle,” Rhodes grunts, obviously unimpressed. 

“Why because he actually complimented me?” Tony asks, intending for the question to come across as sarcastic.

“Exactly,” Rhodes says, just a touch too sharply. “Tony, you fucking thrive on validation, as long as you think it's honest praise and not someone pandering to your ego.” Rhodes grimaces. “How much has he asked for so far, huh? Gonna let him burn through your money?”

“First off, he hasn't asked for a single goddamn thing except some food,” Tony says, his own tone much harsher now. “Second, when I gave him a tablet with some catalogs pulled up and told him to get whatever he wanted? He bought a single pair of jeans and a hoodie before leaving all the branded shit alone and finding something so horribly off brand it offends me because it  _ exists _ . And he wears that shit. In my house. I haven't been able to convince him to get anything nicer yet, other than a good pair of boots - and those were barely two hundred dollars! I haven't bought a  _ tie  _ for less than two hundred bucks in fuck knows how many years.”

“And?” Rhodes seems entirely unimpressed, which just isn't fair, honestly. 

Tony stands and flips the camera to show him what Yasha is wearing. He's in a wife beater and some ratty looking sweatpants that are, honestly, brand new. He's washed them one single time and they already look like they're about to fall apart. 

“This is what he wears. All the time. He hasn't asked me for anything. Only food. You think I'm exaggerating, but I swear I'm not. I offered to buy him a car so he could drive around Malibu when I'm not here and he told me no because he doesn't know how to drive on American streets. And because he doesn't have a driver's license. We went out to eat the other night, and he chose the shittiest hole-in-the wall place he could find in all of L.A., I fucking swear, because it was  _ cheap _ . He hasn't so much as asked to see the ‘shop, he doesn't try to ask nosey questions, and he hasn't tried to hack anything, either. 

“When he saw the prenup, he got upset because he'd still get something if we split. He made Pepper take it all back to legal and change it. We split, and he doesn't get a dime. Even Pepper wasn't okay with that!”

“And what if it's all just an act to make you complacent, Tony?” Rhodes asks, sounding tired and a little defeated. 

“Then it's a damn good one,” Tony says bluntly, “and he'd still get nothing and have nothing in the end.” Tony sighs and rakes his hand through his hair as he turns away from Yasha. “Look, I know it's insane, but I don't really care. He makes me happy. Why can't you just be okay with that?”

Rhodes is quiet for a long moment. Tony feels Yasha's hand on his back, smoothing up his spine. Tony relaxes into Yasha's arms as Yasha murmurs quietly into his ear.

“ _ I'm sorry your friends are upset with me _ ,” he says quietly. 

Tony shakes his head and turns his head just enough to kiss Yasha's jaw. “ _ It's not your fault. I've made a lot of really stupid decisions in the past, and they're worried. But they'll get over it or they won't. _ ” 

“ _ They are more important, _ ” Yasha insists, then presses his lips to Tony's hair. “ _ I will go back to Russia. For a while, perhaps. _ ”

“ _ No _ ,” Tony says, reaching down to squeeze Yasha's arm. “ _ I said I wasn't going to let you get away, and I meant it. Not unless you want to leave, of course. _ ” 

“Oh stop it already, you're going to make me gag,” Rhodes says with another long-suffering sigh. Tony quirks an eyebrow at him. “JARVIS gave me a translation. Whatever, Tones. You're officially insane, man, but I'm not going to stand in your way. Never did me much good anyway. I'm getting my shit packed now. I'll be on the damn plane.”

“Thanks, honeybear,” Tony says with a small smile. “I should be allowed to do weird, crazy things that make me happy now, right?”

“Yeah,” Rhodes says with a thin smile. “Yeah, you should. I'm not sure all this is gonna work out so great for you, but good luck anyway. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

“For the bachelor party,” Tony says with a nod and a slightly stronger smile. “Nothing too crazy, though. we aren't leaving L.A.”

“Okay,” Rhodes says with a shrug. “Still plenty we can do. You have plans for the honeymoon already?”

“Italy,” Tony says with a nod. “We're going to spend a couple weeks out at the mansion there. Then maybe Spain, maybe Greece. We'll see. Pepper says I can have a whole six weeks.” Tony laughs. “She's really starting to act like my real boss now, Rhodey. I can't wait for you to get here and see this.”

“I can't wait either,” Rhodes says, smiling indulgently. “I have to pack. I'll see you soon.” Rhodes ends the call before Tony can drag it out again. Yasha takes the phone and sets it gently on an end table. 

“ _ Your friends are very worried about you. Shouldn't you listen to them _ ?”

“ _ No, _ ” Tony says, smiling as he wraps his arms around Yasha's neck. “ _ I told you, I’ve almost died like, nine times by now between the drinking and drugging and Iron Man and everything with Stane. Maybe more than that. Probably more. _ ” Yasha frowns slightly, one hand stroking Tony's cheek gently. “ _ I'm not worried. I was alone and miserable. Even if you do end up killing me, just don't betray me first and I won't blame you for it. _ ” Tony kisses him once, gently.

“ _ You are too reckless _ ,” Yasha whispers against his cheek. “ _ I'll keep you safe. If you'll let me _ .” 

“ _ Oh, you will, will you _ ?” Tony asks with a soft laugh. “ _ Might need more than ratty sweats and a wife beater to do that. _ ” 

Yasha nods, accepting that as true. “ _ Since it is to your benefit. _ ”

“ _ Oh, is that the secret, making sure it's to my benefit _ ?” Tony laughs and smooths his hands down Yasha's chest and abs. “ _ It will be to my benefit to see this gorgeous body of yours in a three piece suit. Boss, maybe. Cucinelli. Versace, for sure. _ ” Tony walks his fingers back up Yasha's chest. “ _ Think of the sex. You could show up at my work, dressed so nice, come to my office. We can fuck like rabbits on my desk or wherever else we feel like it, and then you can leave with that pretty suit all messed up. _ ”

“ _ Only if yours is  _ _ ruined _ _ , _ ” Yasha breathes into Tony's ear, voice low and damn seductive. Tony shudders and nods. “ _ Vanko is taking me for the tuxedo tomorrow. Two suits. No more. _ ”

“ _ At least four _ ,” Tony argues. “ _ Besides, what do you plan on wearing in Italy? You can't wear this. _ ” He tugs at the waist of Yasha's sweats. “ _ They're terrible. I'm going to burn them. _ ”

“ _ You wouldn't _ ,” Yasha says with a laugh. “ _ I like them. They're soft. _ ”

“ _ If soft is your only requirement, I can do that, and you'll still be dressed better. _ ” Tony kisses Yasha's jaw and down his neck to his shoulder. “ _ Only the softest for you _ .” 

“ _ No, Tony _ ,” Yasha says, even as he tilts his head back to give Tony more access to his skin. “ _ I don't need those things. _ ”

“ _ I want you to have them _ ,” Tony says, his hands sliding underneath Yasha's shirt to lift it. “ _ I want to spoil you. You'll be my perfect, beautiful trophy husband _ .” 

He laughs, but it's true. Yasha won't have to work or do anything else. Perhaps he'll want to learn English at some point, but Tony isn't going to make him. Yasha can sit around and do absolutely nothing all day long if that would make him happy, though according to JARVIS, it doesn't. The days he was at the house alone, he either swam laps in the pool or went down to run on the beach and swim in the ocean. He'd used Tony's small gym extensively, as well. He liked loud, filthy rap - in any language, apparently - but other than that, he didn't seem to have much of a preference for anything other than food. He prefers fresh food, and fruits and vegetables over anything else. Tony doesn't cook because he chooses not to, though he knows his way around a kitchen well enough to have had his built well. Yasha isn't the best cook in the world, but he's excellent at what he does know.

“ _ You already spoil me _ ,” Yasha murmurs, his hands gentle as he rubs them over Tony's shoulders. 

“ _ Not enough _ ,” Tony says. “ _ Never enough _ ."

The conversation deteriorates into soft, slow, lazy kisses after that. Tony is almost unbearably happy, and it's so odd to think of that. He has Yasha, Rhodey is on his way to come party with him and see him get married, and Pepper and Vanko will be there, too. SI is doing great again, he hasn't had any Iron Man problems lately, and all seems  _ right _ with the world. He never wants this happiness to end.


	5. Chapter 5

Vanko collected Yasha at two o'clock Friday afternoon. Tony was bored out of his mind until Rhodey showed up at five. Tony gave him a whole hour to shower and change, then they had Happy drive them to L.A. so they could find some dinner. It was a nice place, really, but Tony spent the entire time talking Rhodey's ear off about Yasha.

“Tones, man, I don't know how you even know that much about the guy,” Rhodey says, relaxing back in his chair with his drink in his hand. “You've known him for three whole weeks.”

“We talk about things,” Tony says defensively.

“Only when you aren't fucking and sleeping, right,” Rhodey says with a nod. “And how often does the fucking part happen?”

“Two or three times a day,” Tony says with a shrug. “Depends. Showers don't freak me out as long as he's in there with me, you know? And it's weird, Rhodey, he  _ gets _ that. I haven't even had to explain it to him. He saw me panic about the water getting in my face one single time, and since then, he makes sure it just doesn't happen.”

Rhodey's expression softens a little. “So he takes your PTSD more seriously than you do, I see. That's definitely a point in his favor. He's still pretty far in the negative, though.” Tony rolls his eyes at that. “How do you expect me to trust the guy? I haven't even met him yet!”

“Not my fault Vanko took him so damn early. They had to get Yasha's tux fitted and everything, but still.” Tony pouts a little. “Yasha signed all the NDAs and everything, but he actually sat down and read everything first. He asked some questions. He's intelligent. Once we're married, I'm going to take him down to the workshop, let him look around.”

“So he doesn't know about your crazy bot kids, yet?” Rhodey asks, both eyebrows raised. “Makin’ the guy a stepparent to kids he doesn't know. Way to go, Tones.” Tony sticks out his tongue. “Seriously, man, what are you going to do if he turns out to be another Sunset?”

“I really don't think he is,” Tony says quietly. “But, I guess I'll ship him back to Russia. Sic Vanko on him or something.” He shrugs and takes a drink. “Fuck, Rhodey, don't make me think about depressing stuff. It's my bachelor party. I want to have fun.”

“Well, we're done here anyway,” Rhodey says. He catches the waitresses attention and asks for the bill. “I've already told Happy where we're going next. He's coming with us, just so you know. I'm not protecting your pasty ass and drinking myself blind at the same time.”

“Always knew you loved me,” Tony says with a laugh. He gives his credit card to the waitress as soon as she appears. “Pepper still hasn't told me who she found to officiate. Do you know?”

Rhodey shakes his head. “Not a clue, man, not a clue. Besides, I don't think it matters much. Just some guy saying some words. You'll sign the marriage licence and be done with it. That's the important part.”

“You're right,” Tony agrees easily. Rhodey is surprised by that acceptance. Usually, Tony obsesses over things like that. “As long as we're married by the end of the day, I don't much care.” He smiles, wide and genuine, and Rhodey's chest hurts a little to see him so happy. He hasn't seen Tony so damn happy in… maybe ever. He's always had a shadow looming over him. 

They leave after Tony tips his waitress an obscene amount, and Happy greets them with a fancy bottle of liquor as a present. They spend a moment just standing around the car, laughing and having a drink and joking around. It's nice. It reminds Rhodey a little of the times before Afghanistan, only Tony isn't trying to drown himself in alcohol as fast as he possibly can. How can one man possibly change Tony so much in such a short amount of time? Surely that isn't healthy. 

Once they're in the back of the car and on their way to the next destination, Rhodey asks Tony about that. “Tones, this guy hasn't tried to make you stop drinking or anything has he? I mean, not that I'm upset about you cutting back or anything, but…” Rhodey sighs. “It's a little weird, I gotta say.”

“What?” Tony looks at his glass and seems genuinely surprised that it's still half full. “Huh. Would you look at that. No, Yasha hasn't asked me to do anything at all. Literally nothing. At all. He asks if  _ he  _ can do things. It's weird. I've told him to stop, to just do what he wants, but he still comes and asks me anyway. But I guess… I guess I've just been so damn happy lately, I haven't felt like I needed to pickle myself.”

“So I guess he earns two points for making you happy enough to curb some of your alcoholism,” Rhodey allows, “but he loses a half a point for being weird. If that's some kind of kinky thing you two have going on, I really don't need to hear about it.”

“It's really not,” Tony says, even though he's laughing. “And it's not like he asks to, I don't know, eat or go take a piss or whatever. It's stuff like going down to the beach or go into certain rooms. That's another thing. I have to tell him it's okay for him to sleep in my room every single night. He tries to get up and go back to his own room, otherwise.”

“Weird, man, weird.” Rhodey shakes his head. He grabs the bottle Happy gave Tony and pours out enough for a shot in the glass. “Shots, Tony. It's a bachelor party. I need to be drunk, and so do you.”

Tony laughs and agrees and takes the shot willingly. Rhodey does one of his own immediately after, and then he's quick to pour a second one for Tony and himself. Happy parks the car and opens the door for them and Tony groans when he sees the place they've wound up at.

“A strip club? Rhodey, honeybear, I don't have any cash!” Tony tosses one arm around Rhodey's shoulders. He tends to get touchy-feely when he drinks rum. 

“Happy took care of it, Tones,” Rhodey says, taking a wad of cash from Happy and stuffing it into the inside pocket on Tony's blazer. 

“Hap, you're the best,” Tony says with a wide grin. “Come on, you're coming too! Lap dances!” Tony drags the both of them inside and stuffs a fifty into the bouncers pocket as they go through. A cocktail waitress in a skimpy, slinky dress with sky-high heels takes their drink orders as they settle in a more private area of the club, and Tony elbows Rhodey and Happy until they finally pick out a couple of girls. 

When the waitress brings their drinks, Tony tips her and then asks her to bring over the girls Rhodey and Happy liked the look of. Happy’s choice is a skinny redhead, but Rhodey's is a muscular blonde in army-green, and Tony teases him about his dedication to the military until the ladies come over to them. 

“Hello, ladies!” Tony says happily. “I'd like to request lapdances for my two best friends, pretty please!” He laughs at Rhodey's rolled eyes and knocks back his drink. He raises his glass to the waitress. “Keep these comin’, sweetheart!”

“What's the occasion?” the blonde asks with a smirk as she swings one long leg over Rhodey's lap. 

“It's this asshole's bachelor party,” Rhodey says, not quite able to tear his eyes away from the woman in front of him even as he jerks his thumb at Tony. 

“Aww, congratulations,” the redhead says, fingering Happy's tie with a coy look. “No dance for you, sugar?”

“Nope,” Tony says cheerfully. He laughs at Happy's bewildered expression. “I've got a frankly beautiful man waiting for me tomorrow.” 

“Oh, you're adorable,” the blonde says with a sharp laugh. “Come on, then, let's see him.” She holds out one hand in a demanding gesture even as her other hand grips Rhodey's shoulder as she grinds down on him. 

Tony fumbles for his phone and finds the picture he took of Yasha just the other day. He's stretched out on the sand at the beach, his metal arm stretched up behind his head with his long brown hair covering most of it. He happily surrenders his phone to the blonde. 

She whistles. “Damn, honey, you weren't lying, were you?” She turns the phone to show the other girl, who coos softly. “I'd swear off stripping for a hunk of man like that.” She holds out his phone, but Happy is quick to intercept it and hand it over before Tony has to wave her off.

“Well,” Tony hums, “my Rhodey here is military. He's a damn fine sight himself, even if I only love him as my brother.” He cackles when Rhodey flips him off.

“It's a good thing you  _ aren't  _ my brother, Tones,” Rhodey says. “Mama would have skinned you alive years ago.” 

“I'd have deserved it,” Tony says with a nod and a laugh. He looks at the redhead. “Happy here likes it gentle. Go easy on him.” He winks at her and she winks back.

* * *

Vanko nods in approval at the tuxedo Yasha is wearing. It's solid black, but the bowtie at his neck is gold. Tony will approve, he thinks. “Good,” he tells the tailor. “Is good.” He looks to Yasha in the mirror. “ _ Take it off. Dinner next. _ ” Yasha nods and carefully begins to take the tux off piece by piece until he's left only in his underwear. He tugs on his jeans as the tailor collects the pieces and hangs them up once more. Stark had insisted Yasha wear his good boots and the nice jeans, though Yasha stuck with a tee shirt and the zip-up hoodie open over that. It covers most of his metal arm and attracts less attention. Stark seems to be the only person Yasha is comfortable around with his arm bare. 

Vanko pays for the tux and they toss it flat across the backseat of his tiny car. The drive to the restaurant is mostly quiet, but it isn't uncomfortable. Once they're seated at a table and they've ordered some traditional Russian food, Vanko relaxes. 

“ _ Stark is good to you _ ?” He's asked before, but he has to check. He won't hesitate to kill stark for harming Yasha. He's certain Stark knows this.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Yasha says quietly. Vanko grins when he spots Yasha's small smile. “ _ He's very kind, and too generous _ .”

“ _ Eh, he's a rich American _ ,” Vanko says with a shrug. “ _ This one is not so greedy as the others _ .”

“ _ He offers too much _ ,” Yasha says, frowning now. “ _ He has no family, he says. What did he do, before me? _ ”

“ _ Drink and work _ ,” Vanko says plainly. “ _ This is why I told you about him, why I brought you to him. Wasn't any good for a man like him to be alone. He is a good man - could be better with a good husband _ .”

Yasha nods. Their waiter brings them their drinks, and Yasha sips at his for a moment. “ _ His friends don't like that he's marrying me. They think he's foolish. _ ”

“ _ Eh, _ ” Vanko says with a shrug. “ _ Let them think what they will. You have no plans to hurt him, do you? _ ” the question comes out a bit harsh, a bit cold.

“ _ No, _ ” Yasha answers softly. “ _ I told him I wanted to protect him, if he would let me. He never actually agreed. _ ”

“ _ He is Iron Man. He doesn't think he needs it _ .” Vanko waves that topic away and drinks. “ _ Where is your honeymoon? _ ”

“ _ Italy, _ ” Yasha answers. “ _ He says his mother's family was from Italy. He has another house there. _ ”

Vanko grins. “ _ He has many houses, your new husband. He is one of the richest men in the world. _ ” Vanko laughs, loud and grating. “ _ And you don't give a shit about that at all, do you _ ?” 

“ _ I was poor in Russia, it’s the only way I know to live _ ,” Yasha says slowly, as if that's all the explanation he knows to give. “ _ Why should I care for money now when I never had it before? _ ”

“ _ Well you have it now whether you want it or not _ ,” Vanko says plainly. “ _ If Stark wants to spend it on you, let him. If you could buy anything in the world, what would it be _ ,  _ huh _ ?”

“ _ Weapons, _ ” Yasha says immediately. “ _ To keep Tony safe. I can fight without them, but a good rifle and a few pistols, a few knives, and the task will be easier. _ ” Yasha picks at a piece of the laminate that's peeling on the cheap table. “ _ Tony does not like weapons, though. He used to make them, he said, but he doesn't now." _

“ _ He flies one, though _ ,” Vanko says. He grabs his phone and taps at it rapidly for a moment, then turns it around to show Yasha a picture of red and gold painted armor. “ _ Iron Man. He has not shown you _ ?” Yasha shakes his head. Vanko makes an irritated sound. “ _ He probably thinks you know already. _ ”

“ _ I didn't understand what ‘Iron Man’ meant. I thought it was something with his business _ .” Yasha admits. “ _ This is it _ ?” Vanko nods. “ _ He fights in this _ ?” 

“ _ He fought  _ me _ in that _ ,” Vanko says gruffly. “ _ We've improved it since then. Ask him about how he became Iron Man. Ask him about Afghanistan. You will be his husband. You should know, if anyone. But you should hear about it from him. _ ”

Yasha nods his acceptance. “ _ Who does he usually fight in that armor _ ?” 

“ _ Terrorists, _ ” Vanko answers, a seemingly simple answer that isn't simple at all. “ _ Ask him about it. Not me. _ ” Yasha nods again. Their food comes only a moment later.

As they eat, Vanko talks about things that interest him and Yasha listens. Yasha likes listening. He’d done that a lot back when they'd shared a cell in prison. Vanko does try to ask questions here and there, but Yasha never has much of an opinion on anything. 

Once dinner is over, Vanko takes them to a shitty bar he's found that has vodka he likes and plays the football matches he's interested in. He sends Yasha off to find a table and buys a bottle of vodka from the bar and gets two glasses. Two of the men at the bar give him looks, but Vanko is skilled at ignoring those looks. Americans still distrust Russians, after all, and he knows he looks unfriendly at the best of times. Miss Potts asked him not to go to American prison, though, so he's trying to behave himself - for her.

The bottle of Russian Standard in hand one hand and two glasses in the other, Vanko makes his way to the back of the bar. Yasha chose their table well. They're near the television the football match is on, and Yasha can keep his back to a wall at the same time. It's a win-win for everyone. Vanko pours their drinks and clicks their glasses together.

“Выпьем за любовь!” Vanko laughs loudly at Yasha's tiny smile and they both down their shots. “ _ I shall call  _ Горько  _ every time I take a drink _ .” Vanko gives Yasha a sharp smile. 

“ _ I always want to kiss him _ ,” Yasha admits quietly, spinning the glass between his fingers. “ _ I don't remember anything from before. Is it strange to like him so much? _ ”

Vanko shrugs. “ _ Not so much, not here. _ ” The game catches his attention for a moment and he cheers for the team he's been watching closely. Yasha doesn't seem to understand football, not even after Vanko had tried explaining it to him. “ _ You are marrying  _ Tony Stark.  _ No one will care that you are a man so much. They will want to know everything about you, though, and they will do whatever they can to find those answers _ .”

Yasha looks disturbed by this new information, but Vanko knows Stark will protect him from the press. He isn't particularly worried about that. If he's worried about anything, it's what will happen when Stark needs to put on his Iron Man suit again, or if Yasha needs to protect Stark from a threat and Stark's ego is damaged because of it. But there's really no helping that, not at present. The time will come, and they will have to find a way to work that problem out between themselves. 

They continue to drink together, Vanko becoming more and more drunk as they empty the bottle and Yasha looking as unaffected as ever. He's not jealous, not at all. He thinks he'd be miserable if he couldn't get drunk or high or anything else. Nothing seems to affect Yasha, though. Vanko has often wondered why and how, but he when he asked the one time, Yasha had simply said he didn't know. That hadn't been much of a surprise.

The tiny, shitty bar has more people now than it did a couple hours ago. Yasha is keeping his eyes on everyone, his face relaxed into what Vanko has heard Stark refer to as his ‘murder face’ on multiple occasions. Stark seems to find it amusing, but Vanko is slightly unsettled. Not because he thinks Yasha will hurt him - Yasha wouldn't hurt anyone unless he felt he had no choice - but because the stare will undoubtedly attract unwanted attention. Vanko truly does want to keep his promise to Miss Potts to not wind up in American prison. 

Sure enough, less than twenty minutes later, four men walk over to their table. Vanko drinks a little more of his vodka, just looking at the men. Across from him, Yasha is tense and motionless. 

"You should leave. We don't want  _ your kind  _ here," one of the men says with a sneer. 

"We are drinking and watching football," Vanko says with a shrug that belies how tense he is. "Is not crime." 

Yasha cuts a sharp look to Vanko when one of the men slips a pocket knife out of his pocket. "We heard you talkin' all  _ commie _ over here." 

"Is Russian," Vanko corrects mildly. "Discussing Russian game, no?" He gestures toward the television playing the game in question. 

"We want you to leave," a different man says, raising his fists. Vanko raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. "No comprende, hombre?  _ Get. Out. _ "

Vanko looks to Yasha. "This is Spanish he speaks, yes?" Yasha nods. "I don't speak Spanish." Vanko shrugs. 

The first man to speak punches Vanko in the face. Vanko rolls with it, then turns and grins a bloody smile at him. Yasha is already on his feet. Vanko holds up a hand, signaling for Yasha to wait. A different man punches Yasha, and Yasha doesn't so much as flinch when the man strikes him across his cheek. Vanko drops his hand and shrugs.

"Is your death," Vanko says casually. He stands as Yasha knocks out the man who punched him with a single blow. Vanko grabs his nearly empty bottle of vodka and cracks it over the leader's head, toppling him. Yasha has already moved on to the second and third men in the bar, putting them down with ruthless efficiency. Vanko knocks back the last of his and Yasha's drinks. 

He can already hear the sirens outside the bar, so he takes out his wallet and throws a few bills on the table to cover the cost of the damage Yasha caused by breaking a chair on accident when he knocked one of the men into it. 

" _ Call Stark now, before they come in to arrest us, _ " Vanko says calmly. " _ He can pay to get us out. Can't have you miss your wedding. _ " Yasha already has his phone in hand, and Vanko chuckles.

* * *

Pepper ends the call and sighs heavily. This is the exact reason she'd elected  _ not _ to join any of the boys for their bachelor parties. Happy is already bringing Tony and Jim back to the mansion, at least, but she never thought she'd have to go and bail Vanko out of prison. Or Tony's new - supposedly perfect - husband, either.

"JARVIS, what can you tell me?" Pepper asks as she drives down the coast toward L.A. 

"I've already accessed the bar's security feed, Miss Potts," JARVIS says, and Pepper nods. She loves how efficient JARVIS is. "It appears a group of four men went over to Mr. Vanko's and Mr. Yasha's table and began to harass them. They struck first, and Mr. Yasha took care of three of them while Mr. Vanko took care of just one. I've uploaded the video to your phone. The police arrived very shortly after. I suspect the bartender called before the altercation had begun. All six men were taken into custody, but the four who attacked first were taken to the hospital first."

"You're certain they attacked first?" Pepper double-checks. "That's clear on the video?" 

"Yes, Miss Potts, quite so. Mr. Vanko apparently gave Mr. Yasha the signal to stand down until he had been struck first, and then the brawl, such as it was, truly began. I've taken the liberty of forwards the video to the police department and the D.A.'s office."

"Thank you, JARVIS," Pepper says politely. "Go ahead and contact the jail and pay their bail. Let them know I'm coming to collect them."

"Very well, Miss Potts."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I5: arranged marriage
> 
> the actual marriage part of the whole arranged marriage square, as arranged by vanko back in the beginning

Tony isn't exactly pleased to see  _ Miss Rushman _ at his wedding, but he doesn't say anything against her presence, either. She  _ had  _ helped to save his life, after all, and he figures he can let everything that happened before fall by the wayside. She seems to act as if she knew Yasha somehow, but if even if she did, he clearly doesn't remember her. That's almost funny. Almost. 

Fury shows up to his wedding, too, and Tony complains to Pepper for a moment that half his life is now full of spies. Pepper just pats him on his shoulder and tells him that's what he gets for being a superhero. 

The interesting part is the guy Pepper scared up to officiate. He's also a SHIELD agent named Clint Barton, and apparently good friends with Natasha. Agent is his handler, though, so Tony doesn't automatically dislike the guy. Once he starts cracking some pretty awful jokes, Tony thinks he might like the guy an awful lot. 

Yasha looks incredible in his all-black tux with the gold bow. Tony, in direct contrast, is in a gold tux with a black bowtie. Clint had made a joke that that must make Tony the wife, and Tony flipped him off to a chorus of laughter. Yasha has in his translator again, which is helpful, but Tony or Vanko are usually on hand to translate whatever he wants to say to anyone else. Yasha doesn't have a bruise at all from the little bar brawl the night before, but Vanko has a split and swollen lip. 

Clint does the job of marrying them, though - giving the ceremony in both English  _ and  _ Russian, bouncing back between each portion of whatever he has to recite. Tony thinks that's really damn nice of him. Tony recites his vows in Russian, just for Yasha. 

Their kiss, at the end, gets a little filthy, but Tony doesn't really think anyone can blame him. 

The reception is down on the beach, and nearly everyone sheds bits and pieces of their suits and other finery to walk in the water for a bit. They eat finger food Tony had catered, and overall, it's a very nice evening. Yasha doesn't leave Tony's side for a moment. 

"We'll be heading to New Mexico once this is over," Agent tells him, later. "There's something going on down there that I need to look into. Natasha and Fury will be back in D.C. Clint's coming with me."

"Just a consultant, remember?" Tony asks with a raised eyebrow. "Whatever SHIELD has it's grubby fingers in, I don't want to know."

"Of course, Mr. Stark," Phil says agreeably. "I just couldn't help but overhear your very loud conversation with Clint about some sort of pool party once you've returned from your honeymoon."

"Well, snap-snap, Agent. Get your ducks in the same pond already and don't keep my new friend too busy." Tony grins.

"We'll see, Mr. Stark," Phil says with a small smile and nod. "Enjoy your honeymoon." With that, he walked away. 

" _ The jet is waiting for us whenever you're ready to go, _ " Tony says, turning to look at Yasha. " _ I mean, I haven't had a real vacation in years, so I'm sort of ready to get all this started. Before we go, I want you to meet a few… people. _ "

" _ Whatever you want _ ," Yasha says with a small, sweet smile. Vanko calls for another cheers, and Yasha swoops in to kiss Tony once again. Tony laughs softly. " _ He thinks it will annoy me. I told him it wouldn't. _ "

" _ I don't think I'll ever get tired of kissing you _ ," Tony says with sappy smile. " _ Come on. I'll introduce you and then we can leave. _ " Yasha nods and links his arm with Tony's before they head toward the staircase that leads up to the house. 

Tony leads them inside the quiet house and over to the staircase where his 'shop is. He leads Yasha down the stairs and they stop at the bottom. Tony keys in the passcode on the door and holds it open for his new husband. 

" _ This is my 'shop. I don't generally let too many people down here. One of the last people I trusted with that tried to rip out the arc reactor and kill me. But I'm trusting you _ ." Yasha nodded gravely. " _ Come on, meet who Rhodey calls my kids. _ " Tony leads Yasha into the shop. "JARVIS _ , bring them over here, please. _ "

There are a series of chirps and beeps as Dum-E, You, and Butterfingers leave their charging stations and roll over to greet Yasha. Yasha's eyes go wide as he takes them in. Tony poins to each of them as he introduces them. 

" _ This is Dum-E, the oldest, Butterfingers, and You. They help me around the 'shop." _

Yasha extends his hand and Dum-E makes his happy-excited sound as he clasps Yasha's hand and shakes it vigorously. Yasha laughs, already charmed. " _ They're wonderful. _ "

" _ Thank you, _ " Tony said with a small smile. " _ They really sort of are like my kids. I built Dum-E when I was sixteen at MIT. _ "

" _ You were so young, _ " Yasha says softly. 

Tony shrugs. He walks over to the display case where the Iron Man Mark 2 armor stands, illuminated. " _ And this is my armor. _ "

" _ Vanko mentioned this _ ," Yasha says quietly, coming to stand beside him. " _ He says you fight in this. Terrorists. He said to ask you about Afghanistan. _ "

" _ We can talk about it on the jet,"  _ Tony says, a little resigned. He's used to everyone knowing already, not having to explain it all. " _ It's a long flight, and we have six weeks to ourselves. _ "

Yasha nods and gathers Tony in his arms. They just stand there for a long moment, Yasha's lips pressed to Tony's hair and his arms holding him tightly. Tony lets himself soak in the now familiar and comforting touch. It's so nice, he thinks, and uncomplicated. 

Finally, Tony pulls away from Yasha and kisses him gently. They say goodbye to the 'bots together and head back upstairs. Happy already has their bags in the car. Everyone else had migrated up to the house once they realized Tony and Yasha were gone. They send them off with some catcalls and well wishes and lots of bubbles, and Happy drives them toward the airport. 


	7. Chapter 7

"Security breach!" Tony says as Agent walks into the mostly-new penthouse living room. Pepper rolls her eyes and stands. 

"Phil, how are you?"

"Phil?" Tony asks, insulted. "Uh, that man's name is  _ Agent _ ." They're all particularly skilled at ignoring him, apparently. Yasha doesn't, but even his comforting presence at Tony's back can't make him relax entirely. He doesn't like that Phil is here at all. 

"There's a situation," Phil says to Tony. "Barton's compromised." 

"What?" Tony asks sharply. He snatches the tablet from Phil's hand and explodes the files around the room. He takes in the information surrounding him - and the, frankly, bullshit, that Phil is spewing all at once. 

"I'm gonna go to D.C.," Pepper says softly. "You have homework. A  _ lot _ of homework." Tony nods. Yes, he apparently does have homework. He wants to know what the  _ hell _ SHIELD thought they were doing with the Tesseract, too. 

"What about Yasha?" Pepper asks. 

"What about him?" Tony asks back, breaking his concentration to look at her. He looks at Yasha. " _ What do you want to do? Do you want to stay here or go with Pep to D.C.? _ "

" _ I want to go with you, _ " Yasha says. It's not the cute, mewling, begging thing it probably would have been with anyone else. Yasha sounds deadly serious and he's working hard on that resting-murder-face thing he has going on. 

"He can't come with us," Phil says. And when did Phil learn Russian? Tony doesn’t bother to ask. "This is top secret. More top secret than and of that DoD stuff you mess around with."

"Fine," Tony snaps. " _ You can't _ .  _ Agent says so. I shouldn't be gone too long, though. Few days, max. _ "

Yasha clenches his hands over and over as he stares hard at the images surrounding Tony, paying particular attention to the one of Captain America. " _ Then I will stay here and wait for you. _ " 

Tony nods. " _ I love you. I'll call when I can, but don't expect much _ ."

Yasha walks over to Tony and grabs his face in both hands before kissing the breath out of his lungs. It leaves Tony just a little bit dizzy. Yasha nods once, seemingly satisfied, then vanishes into their bedroom, slamming the door behind himself.

"Yeah, you pissed him off," Tony says, looking at Phil. Phil doesn't seem particularly bothered, but Tony's seen what that metal arm can do, and he knows Phil should be at least a little bit worried for his own safety. "Fine. I'll ride with you, Agent." 

Phil nods once, and then there's a small flurry of activity as Tony goes back to his bedroom for a change of clothes - and finds Yasha already packing a bag for him. He gets another biting kiss before he leaves. He grabs his armor on the way out, and then he's too busy doing his homework to watch the tower through the back windshield.

* * *

"How's tricks, Barton?" Tony asks when Clint walks into the war room to sit down and strategize with them. He looks like shit. 

"Oh, you know, got used as a demigod's personal pincushion and bitch boy. Couldn't be better." Tony nods. As long as Clint is making jokes, he's within the realm of okay. 

"We think Loki is going to hit Stark tower," Rogers says, putting on his 'I'm the Captain, so everyone has to listen to me' face. Tony rolls his eyes. He's been doing that a lot. "The arc reactor under the tower has enough of a power source for him to use to get the portal open."

"Question is, what's on the other side of the portal?" Natasha asks shrewdly.

"If we can shut it down in time, we won't have to find out," Rogers says.

"That's all nice and optimistic and everything," Tony says flatly, "but it's not like the reactor has a kill switch. I can't just call someone up and tell them to pull the plug, okay? It doesn't work like that. And the machine they've made? It'll self-stabilize once it's finished with the initial power draw." At Rogers' blank look, Tony sighs. "Once Loki turns it on, there is no turning it back off, not from the power source. We have to figure out another way to shut it down."

"The scepter?" Natasha asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Maybe," Tony shrugs. "I don't know what the hell that thing is. I don't even really know what the Tesseract is. Other than, as Clint put it, a door. A door to where? I couldn't guess."

"What about your boo, Stark?" Clint asks.

"He's fine," Tony says tersely. "I asked JARVIS to evacuate the tower, Yasha included."

"Who is Yasha?" Rogers demands.

"My husband," Tony snaps, finally fucking done with Rogers' attitude. "We're going to be over New York again soon. I have repairs to make." He leaves the table and stomps off toward the makeshift work space he'd carved out of the rubble of the ship. He really just can't deal with Rogers' shitty attitude right now. He's met people that self-righteous before, but damn, he didn't really have to work with them. 

"I didn't know Stark was married," he hears Rogers say as he walks away. 

"It isn't important right now," Natasha says, drawing them all back to focus on what  _ was  _ important.

* * *

Tony catches sight of the man in all black leather with a sniper rifle shooting from a secluded corner of the roof of Stark tower. Tony swings around close, and the silver hand flashes up in the air. Tony latches on and flies them both onto the landing pad he'd installed. The robotic arms come up to peel away his badly damaged armor, and Tony nearly collapses into Yasha's arms once the last pieces are tugged away. 

" _ What are you doing here _ ?" Tony tries to demand. It comes out to breathy and wheezy to sound angry, though. 

" _ Protecting you _ ," Yasha says as he hauls Tony inside. He finds the homing bracelets for Tony's newest Mark and fits them on Tony's wrists before Tony can do much more than attempt to catch his breath. " _ There are aliens outside. Did you notice _ ?"

Tony laughs. " _ Yeah, I noticed. _ " He tugs Yasha down for a kiss. " _ Don't die. I'll be super pissed off if you die. Like, super villain origin story pissed off. _ "

Yasha smirks. He's seen enough movies over the last couple years to understand a lot of Tony's references, even if he still doesn't have much of his memory back. " _ I won't die. You aren't allowed to die either. _ "

" _ No promises _ ," Tony says, maybe a little too seriously. Yasha kisses him again, curling his body protectively around Tony as he does so. They look up when Loki makes an appearance, but before he can do much, Yasha yanks a gun from his thigh holster and shoots him three times in quick succession. Tony doubts that will hurt him much, but it does send him flying out of the penthouse. And, Tony notes, he drops the scepter. " _ I have to go back out there _ ."

_ "Be safe _ ," Yasha whispers, and kisses him once more, very gently. 

" _ You too _ ." Yasha pushes away, then, and leaves through the stairwell. Tony summons his armor and rejoins the fight below - and in the sky.

* * *

"Do you want me to call Mr. Yasha?" JARVIS asks as Tony carries the nuke on his back toward the portal. 

"I doubt he'll answer, but try anyway," Tony says. It rings twice. " _ Yasha. _ "

" _ You said you would be safe _ ," Yasha says, and Tony squeezes his eyes shut against the sound of his heartbroken voice. " _ I can see you. Flying the bomb up there. _ "

" _ I have to, _ " Tony says, fighting hard to keep his voice steady. " _ Otherwise, we're all going to die anyway. _ "

" _ It shouldn't have to be you _ ," Yasha whispers. Tony can hear the choked tears in his voice. 

" _ There isn't anyone else. _ " Tony can see the Chitauri ships through the portal. " _ I love you. So much, Yasha. Don't ever doubt that. And don't argue with Pepper when she tells you what I've left you. It's yours. Burn it, if you want, but it's  _ _ yours _ _. _ " 

" _ Tony,"  _ Yasha says, but his voice is already breaking up. The call disconnects, and Tony sobs, once, as he disconnects the magnets keeping the nuke pinned to his armor. He watches the warships explode, and then the entire suit begins to short out and die. 

He falls, and even though he's dying, he smiles. He kept Yasha safe, after all. Yasha will get to live.

* * *

" _ Tony! _ " The shout makes him turn his head, and a big, ridiculous grin splits his face even as Yasha smacks into him at full-force. Yasha is wearing the special tactical goggles he designed, and while it makes him look a bit like a bug, he doesn't give two shits. He kisses Yasha breathless, and he flips off Clint when he can hear him wolf-whistle. 

"Sorry, fellas, Natasha, but I'm going to go have lots of 'thank god I'm alive sex' with my husband." Tony gives them a cheery wave and kicks his boot a few times until the thrusters engage. Yasha wraps his metal arm around the armor and holds on as Tony flies them straight up to the landing pad. As soon as he's free from the armor, he and Yasha throw some clothes into some bags and head straight down to the parking garage, side-stepping the still-unconscious Loki in the floor. Someone else can deal with that problem. They take one of Tony's cars out of Manhattan and find the first hotel that will accept business. 

Yasha takes his time doctoring all of Tony's scrapes and bruises. He doesn't let Tony lift much more than his fork for the next two days, as soon as they can be, they're on a plane to Malibu to take up residence in the mansion again until the tower can be fixed. Yasha frets over Tony constantly, but Tony doesn't mind it. He finds all the best shots of Yasha sniping the Chitauri and puts together a little slideshow. 

It's nice, Tony thinks, to have someone care so damn much but still not expect him to give up being Iron Man.


	8. Chapter 8

The charity gala Tony is hosting to raise money to help repair Manhattan and other damaged parts of New York had started an hour ago by the time Tony himself arrives, Yasha on his arm. They tolerate their usual amount of questions from the press, which was to say none at all, and head inside. They find Clint first, with Natasha by his side. Clint isn't doing so great after Loki's mind fuck, but he's spent some time with them out at the Malibu mansion, and he'll head back out there after his mandatory week under SHIELD's not so tender care. Natasha is there to keep him steady, and Tony finds he can be grateful to her for that. He finds Bruce and Thor, next, discussing Einstein-Rosen Bridges, of all things, and he makes Bruce promise to come and at least  _ visit  _ the tower once the renovations are finished. 

The last person they stumble across is Steve Rogers. Tony isn't exactly trying to avoid the guy, only - well, he sort of is. 

"Bucky?" Steve asks, gaping like a fish and staring at Yasha. 

"Steve, meet my husband, Yasha. He's Russian, and he doesn't speak any English." Tony never gets tired of saying that, mostly because of the expressions he gets. This time, he is almost certain Steve wants to crush the life out of him.

Tony discovered, about a year ago, who exactly Yasha was. He told Yasha, of course, that he was  _ actually  _ James Buchanan Barnes, but Yasha didn't care in the slightest. Even going to the Smithsonian and looking at the exhibits hadn't helped to jog his memory of who he really was. He was Yasha, and he was Tony's husband, and that was all he needed to know. 

"That's - I swear to God, Stark," Steve says, lowering his voice, "if you're doing this to fuck with me…"

"Yasha and I have been married for almost three years, Rogers," Tony snaps. "I already know he's your dead best friend, all right? But Yasha isn't the same person anymore. He doesn't remember  _ any  _ of that. Natasha can fill you in on what we've learned." Yasha tugs Tony to his side protectively. 

" _ Tell him if he keeps staring at you like that, I will tear out his eyes and feed them to him, _ " Yasha says, low and threatening. 

"He says to quit staring at me or he's going to rip out your eyes and feed them to you," Tony parrots immediately. He grins when Steve's black look gets even darker. Yasha steps entirely in front of Tony, then, and Tony snickers into Yasha's back. 

"Bucky, Bucky it's  _ me _ , it's  _ Steve _ ," Steve pleads. "Til the end of the line, pal, remember?" 

" _ Tell him, who the hell is Bucky? _ " Yasha says, tugging on Tony's sleeve. 

"He says, who the hell is Bucky," Tony dutifully repeats. He never minds translating for Yasha. Usually, he'll have fun with it, but not now, not with this. It's endlessly amusing anyway. 

Steve's face falls and shatters. Thankfully, Natasha appears then and leaves Clint with them while she guides Steve away. 

" _ I think you broke him _ ," Clint says, eating another cheese puff. 

" _ He's the one who kept at it _ ," Tony says with a shrug. " _ I told him Yasha doesn't remember. He didn't seem to want to accept that. _ "

" _ Nat'll get him sorted, _ " Clint says. " _ Wanna blow off SHIELD and let me come back to Malibu early? _ "

" _ Sure thing, bird brain, _ " Tony said easily. 

" _ When they say you must leave again, I will kill them for you _ ," Yasha offers. Clint laughs, but he doesn't say no, and Tony makes sure to make a mental note to remind his husband of their 'no murder' rule. He takes a sip of his champagne as Yasha folds him against his chest and Clint jokes with them, and he thinks that his life is pretty damn nice just the way it is. 


End file.
